


still bright, still colourful

by oathsworn (onelastchence)



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 19:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14088234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onelastchence/pseuds/oathsworn
Summary: They said the odds were against them, but Wangho took said odds by the scruff of its neck and threw it out the window.





	still bright, still colourful

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from [Promise Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rLb4tK7KxmU) by Dead by April. thank you to angel for the beta!

When Wangho turns up at the SKT dorm, Junsik takes one look at his pink cheeks, bitten by the cold wind, bright eyes shining, and opens the door without another word. A curious Beomchan pokes his head out of the kitchen from where he’s trying to ravage for a snack, sees Wangho, and immediately drops everything (no, like, literally, tub of ice cream and all).

 

“Wah!” He cheers, rushing towards Wangho, eyes even brighter than Wangho’s own. He would probably have jumped the older jungler had Junsik not flung one arm out, used to the younger boy’s exuberance and lack of respect for personal space. “Not right now, Beomchan-ah.”

 

Beomchan blinks, confused, up at Junsik, who only tilts his head towards the door that Wangho is more than familiar with. Wangho nods with a small smile and disappears through said door after a quick knock.

 

“Why didn’t you let me talk to him, hyung?” Beomchan asks, sulking as he walks back into the kitchen to pick up his tub of ice cream.

 

Junsik glances at the door that leads to Sungu’s room, then shakes his head fondly, a hint of a knowing smile on his lips. “We’re not the ones he wants to see right now.”

 

* * *

 

Sungu’s lying on his stomach in the dark when Wangho enters through the door. He hadn’t told Sungu that he was coming over, nor given any indication that it was him and not just some other SKT member when he had knocked on the door. He watches Sungu, for a few seconds, who hasn’t bothered to look up from his phone, then sighs.

 

“Not even going to greet your boyfriend?”

 

Sungu’s head snaps up faster than Wangho has ever seen it once the first word leaves Wangho’s mouth, and even in the darkness of the room, Wangho can see the exact moment Sungu realises it’s him. He knows, then, that it’s safe to drop his bag to the ground and run forward, leaping at Sungu.

 

Sungu, as usual, as he always does, Wangho thinks, has his arms ready to catch him. He sticks his cold nose into Sungu’s neck, hears Sungu’s sharp intake of breath, and laughs. “I’ve missed this,” He whispers. “I’ve missed _you_.”

 

There’s a soft chuckle from the boy under him, and Sungu presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. “It’s unlike you to be so vocal about your affection,” He says, but Wangho admits, however reluctantly, he can hear the adoration in Sungu’s voice. “Who are you?”

 

“Wangho’s doppelganger,” He answers, voice snide. “I’ve come to steal you from him.”

 

“Well,” Sungu laughs, pulling away to nuzzle his nose gently against Wangho’s own. “You do make a very convincing argument.” Wangho rolls his eyes, and he’s glad, then, for the perpetual darkness Sungu keeps his room in, allowing him to hide the flush crawling up his face. “Do you kiss as well as Wangho does, though?”

 

“I don’t know,” Wangho throws back haughtily. “How about you test it out?”

 

Honestly, he hadn’t expected Sungu to take the invitation, but on hindsight, he probably should have. Sungu’s lips press over his immediately and Wangho’s eyes close, almost on autopilot. He feels himself being lowered down onto the soft comforter of Sungu’s bed, and the feeling is so _familiar_ that it aches, and he tightens his arms around Sungu’s neck.

 

It’s been some time. With SKT’s lose streak and Kingzone’s climb to the top, tensions between them had been awkward and difficult to manage. Wangho still remembers the win against SKT in the second round robin, when he had poked a tentative head into the waiting room before the match, only for Sungu to send him a sad smile, a small shake of the head, and turn his back on him.

 

That had hurt. It had hurt a lot, and while Wangho hated having to play against Sungu, not actually being able to play against Sungu, and seeing someone else in that seat that they used to share was somehow even worse.

 

Sungu pulls away after a while, holding himself up above him, and Wangho reaches out with one hand to trace his features. “I won for you today.”

 

“I know,” Sungu replies, voice soft. He reaches out to take the hand that’s drawing a path on his skin and brushes his lips gently across the knuckles. “I’ll do my best not to let you down.”

 

“I want to see you in the finals,” Wangho says, making himself comfortable as Sungu lies down on the bed, and they scoot into their position of Wangho pressed against the wall and Sungu protecting him from the world. “Promise me you’ll make it there.”

 

There’s a long moment of silence as Sungu stares at Wangho, then shakes his head. “You know I don’t make promises I might not be able to keep, Wangho.”

 

“Then promise me,” Wangho blurts out. “Promise me you’ll try your hardest to make it there.”

 

At this, Sungu smiles, and leans forward to press a gentle kiss to Wangho’s forehead.

 

“I promise.”


End file.
